Chapter 140: What’s a Pet?

Daemus coughed so hard orange juice came out of his nose.

Clarice calmly handed him a napkin without looking up from her tea.

"No," Daemus wheezed. "No, Kael. Absolutely not. He is not her mate."

"Correct," Killian said.

Blair let out a breath of relief.

"She is my pet," Killian finished, and took a sip of his coffee.

Blair’s breath went right back in.

Daemus slammed his glass down. "She is not your pet!"

"I stated my claim first."

"And I claimed her first!"

Kael looked back and forth between them, his little face scrunched with concentration. Then he twisted around in Blair’s lap and looked up at her.

"Blair," he asked. "What’s a pet?"

The entire table went silent.

Blair opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She looked at Clarice for help, but Clarice was suddenly very busy buttering a piece of toast.

"A pet is..." Blair tried weakly. "It’s like... a friend. That you... take care of."

Kael thought about this. He turned back to Killian, frowning.

"You have to feed her," he informed him sternly. "And walk her. And give her baths."

Daemus made a strangled noise.

Killian set his coffee cup down very slowly. His gaze slid across the table to Blair, and for one long, awful second, he seemed to actually be considering it.

Blair wanted to crawl under the table and die.

"Noted," Killian said.

* * *

The second day of lessons was worse than the first.

Not because the material was harder. Blair understood every word. It was worse because every time Killian turned a page, every time he picked up his pen, every time his cool fingers tapped the edge of the textbook, all she could see was a box marked Authorized By.

She hadn’t slept. She had spent the rest of the night on the floor against her door, staring at the ceiling.

Heather.

She had to know. She had to know something. But she couldn’t ask him. If he really had taken Heather, asking would tell him that she knew.

She didn’t want to think about what he would do to her then.

"Chapter twelve," Killian said. "Academy governance."

Blair turned the page. The heading at the top read Student Welfare and Medical Authority.

She stared at it.

At the head of the table, Daemus was slumped in his chair, trying to read the Chapter along with them. His lips moved silently over the words. Every few seconds, he rubbed at the faded mustache on his upper lip as if it might finally come off.

Killian was already moving on. "Section one. The academy physician holds authority over..."

"Who’s allowed to..." Blair’s voice came out as a whisper. She stopped.

Killian stopped too. He looked at her.

Blair kept her eyes glued to the page. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. Stop. Stop talking. Don’t ask.

But the words came out anyway.

"Who’s allowed to authorize a student’s medical transfer?" she whispered. "Off campus. In the middle of the night."

Too specific? Maybe.

Killian was quiet for a moment.

"The headmaster," he said. "The academy physician. Or a member of the royal family."

Blair’s pen went still.

A member of the royal family.

"Why?" Killian asked.

"N-no reason." She scribbled something meaningless in the margin of her notebook. "It was just... on the page."

It wasn’t on the page. Section one was about dormitory inspections. They both knew it.

Killian didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. She could feel him watching her for a long, long time before he finally turned back to the textbook.

* * *

Daemus’s phone rang just after lunch.

He glanced at the screen and groaned. "It’s Coach."

"Answer it," Clarice said.

He answered it. Blair could hear the voice on the other end from across the table, loud and gravelly, even without wolf ears. She caught the words two games, a whole week, and not one word from you, and then something that sounded a lot like or you can kiss that scholarship goodbye, Krelin.

Daemus winced and pulled the phone away from his ear. "Coach, I can’t today. I’ve got a..." He glanced at Killian. "...a situation."

More shouting.

"Yes, Coach. No, Coach. I know, Coach. I’m sorry, Coach." Daemus hung up. "Mandatory conditioning at the rink. Two hours. I’ve missed two important games and weeks of practice, and I never called him once." He dragged a hand down his face. "If I skip today, I’m off the team."

"Then you’ll go," Clarice said.

"I’m not leaving her alone with him."

Blair looked at Daemus. The scholarship was his one chance to make it without his family’s name. She couldn’t let him lose that because of her.

"Daemus," Blair said quietly. "You should go."

He turned to her, his ears flattening. "Bunny..."

"It’s two hours." She made herself smile. "I’ll be fine. Your mom’s here."

"Actually, dear," Clarice said, standing and brushing off her skirt, "I promised Kael I’d take him to the park this afternoon. Didn’t I, sweetheart?"

Kael, who was lying on the living room floor coloring a picture of a snake, looked up in confusion. "You did?"

"I did," Clarice said firmly. "Go get your shoes."

Kael shrugged and ran off to get his shoes.

Daemus looked at his mother. Then at Killian. Then at Blair. He looked like a wolf who could smell a trap but couldn’t see where it was.

"Two hours," he said finally. He pointed at Killian. "Two hours. If she has a single hair out of place when I get back, I’m gonna..."

"Draw on my face?" Killian suggested.

Daemus growled. He stomped upstairs, and when he came back down, he had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder with a sock hanging out of the zipper. He kissed the top of Blair’s head, shot Killian one last glare, and stomped out the front door.

Ten minutes later, Clarice and Kael followed. Kael waved at Blair all the way down the front path. Clarice didn’t look back at all.

The front door clicked shut.

The house went very, very quiet.

Blair sat at the dining table with her hands in her lap and stared at the textbook in front of her. She could hear the clock ticking on the kitchen wall. She could hear her own heartbeat.

Across the table, the Crown Prince turned a page.

"Now," Killian said. "Where were we?"